PJO: My Babysitter is a WHAT ! ?
by Allie X 'I
Summary: When I had defeated Mrs. Dodds, I never expected to lose my mom to the Minotaur, train at a camp made for half-bloods, learn that my father is actually the Sea God, go on a quest that may or may not end my life with my best friend and a wise girl, and discover that my sitter was actually an immortal girl that had to repay a debt for my old man... Wait, WHAT! ?
1. Fate Gets a New Toy

**...**

**Yes I started another one.**

**DON'T KILL ME PLEASE!**

* * *

_Sometimes it's not worth being the God of the Sea_, Poseidon mused as he watched his brothers and sisters disagree with and fling insults at each other. Even though they were supposed to have another meeting about the Great Prophecy and whom it may be talking about, it turned into another shouting match when Ares got cocky and loudly explained how _wonderful_ last night was with a drop-dead gorgeous goddess of beauty. As usual, Hephaestus ignored him. However, a certain mechanical spider had fell out of his pockets, crawled undetected toward the laughing war god, and climbed up his pants leg.

Needless to say, the girlish scream that followed was used for future blackmail and was the initiative for the current result.

_Why am I the only few _sane _here?_ He mentally groaned, eyeing a certain thunderbolt thrown toward a certain Underworld Lord and pierced said lord's _derrière_.

"Are those guys ever gonna quit?! C'mon, even a brawl staring eight monkeys with seven bananas has more common sense than them!"

His lips twitched as he looked down at the cloaked female sitting at the edge of his armrest, legs folded beneath the fabric and arms crossed in agitation, her right pointer tapping her elbow. He lightly chuckled (which was not heard in the ruckus) and carefully placed his hand on top of her head. "You get used to it after some time," he mused to her.

She huffed, not even flinching as the hand began to lightly pet her head in a soothing gesture, although her body did began to loosen in relaxation, and focused on the situation once again. "So, how long do you think this is going to last?" She inquired.

* * *

_**THIRTY **__**MINUTES Later**_

* * *

"Can we go _now_?" The girl finally said, clearly annoyed that the argument lasted _this long_.

He could feel the agitation rolling off her in waves and made the wise decision: "Yes." Then, eyeing his siblings, he coaxed the girl to sit on his outstretched palm before teleporting (_man_, did he love that power!) out of the chamber and landed outside at the pavilion. He lowered his hand to let the girl jump off before shrinking himself back into his human height.

Lightly shaking off the vertigo, he eyed the cloaked girl with a brow. "Why are you bothering to wear a cloak when everybody knows your name?"

She shrugged, the hood shadowing her face but he could _clearly_ feel the smirk on it. "'Cuz it makes me look _mysterious_."

"'Mysterious.' Right." He deadpanned.

"Oh shut up," she huffed, gripping the hood of her cloak before removing it in one, quick move.

He shook his head at the dramatic action before looking back at the teen (said teen was dusting off her garment) and took a quick look at her. It's been years since they have last seen each other, yet she didn't age one bit since they day he found her. She was wearing (what she dubbed) her "Celestial Attire," which consisted of a one strap dress that somewhat covers her feet with a train that barely touched the ground sewn to the strap on both sides, golden ropes tied in a loose knot and to the side, and casual Greek sandals with a gold strap around her ankles and silver straps crisscrossing her feet and toes. She was also wearing bangles (silver on the left, gold on the right) that jingle softly and pleasantly along and a necklace she keeps hidden under her dress. A quick glance at her ears reveal three earrings on each ear, following a hoop-stud-hoop pattern respectively (silver-gold-silver in one ear, gold-silver-gold in the other). Her waist-length, turquoise-wavy hair was pulled into a somewhat high ponytail and held with a simple silver band with silver chains weaved into her hair, causing it to gleam in the torchlight with some loose strands moving with the light wind.

If it wasn't for her hair, she would have been mistaken for his offspring, as the resemblance to each other is uncanny: skin tanned from the sun, personality that is calm one moment and storming in another, and eyes filled with storm of emotions and history.

His eyes automatically gazed to a spot on her shoulder. However, he raised a brow. "You didn't cover it up?"

She blinked at him but then smirked, placing a hand on her hip. "I thought it was high time to stop running." Her answer did not reflect the thinly veiled fear in her eyes or the light shudder racking her body.

He sighed. _She still has nightmares, huh?_

"Anyway," she said lightly, shaking her head to clear away her thoughts before looking into the Sea God's eyes, "what did you call me for? And don't pull out any bullcrap about how you wanted to 'catch up' (she air quoted the word) with me."

Outwardly, he groaned. Inwardly, he smirked. _Still has her spunk, I see. Good. _"I called you to ask you about the debt."

Her eyes shot up before narrowing into a glare. "What do you want?" she inquired coldly.

"You don't have to put your guard up," he sighed. "All I want is to ask you a personal favor between friends."

"…" She crossed her arms and put weight on her right foot. "Okay~ I'm listenin'."

"Well, remember the Big Three Pact between me, Zeus, and Hades made around the World War I, right?" She nodded, tapping her foot impatiently. He braced himself. "Well…I broke it."

"…"

It was silent for a while.

Then the girl threw her head back and laughed. His body relaxed as heard the tinkling noise so similar to his own. _No wonder why people feel comfortable around me_, he thought, smiling as the girl hunched over and wrapped her arms around her, trying to contain her laughter. _It's good to see her smile again._

Cheerfull, happy… and _free_.

_She truly did take after me,_ he thought proudly, patiently waiting for her to stop. Before long, her laughs turned into giggles as she wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes and stood up straight to look into the God's eyes, lips twitching and threatening to break out into a smile.

"He he~," a giggle escaped. "I _knew_ you couldn't last that long~! I had some doubts at the beginning. I mean, actually sticking to it was impressive for this long. But _now!? _HA HA HA~!" Her laughter finally sated, she raised a brow at him and crossed her arms again. "So let me guess: You're worried that some baddies are going to harm your offspring and its mother and you want _moi_ to protect them from any harm with everything in my arsenal. That's correct, yes?"

_Spot on,_ he thought, a sweatdrop behind his head as he coughed in his fist. "Yes it is. I hope-"

"-it's not too much trouble," she finished, beaming at him as he felt more sweatdrops behind his head. "No sweat, my friend. You know I love taking care of the little tykes." She then gave him a thumbs-up. "Just give me the address and I'll go from there."

He could barely contain the smile threatening to pop out as he gave her a slip and watched as she ran toward the entrance to the mortal realm, entered it, and disappeared behind the doors. _Asking her was the best decision ever, second to Sally_.

* * *

~P.O.V. Switch~

* * *

_I said it was 'no sweat,'_ she thought, gazing around at the park while sitting on a random park bench she picked and shoving her hands into her favorite hoodie's pockets, _but maybe I should have asked for a little more info._

After she left Poseidon, she had ventured off into Manhattan's street before arriving at the Jackson's resident. However, a few doorbell rings, peeks into windows, and taping onto the glass, it was confirmed that the Jacksons were not at home. Deciding her best bet was to recon, she went around the apartment building to ask the neighbors where they might be. Five hours of asking and snooping later, however, proved that her actions were futile as she did come even close as to what _route _they took. In exhaustion, she collapsed (dramatically) onto a random park bench as is currently now sprawled on it, out of ideas.

A quick look at the custom-made watch courtesy of Hephaestus, she was somewhat surprised that it was already 1 o'clock; five hours passed since eight A.M. Sighing, she leaned back threw the hood up, and closed her eyes. _A little sleep won't hurt nobody…_

* * *

_**TWO **__**HOURS Later**_

* * *

She awoke to the feeling of something tugging her favorite black jeans. The sudden sensation caused her to jump a foot into the air (figuratively) and almost fall off the bench. Luckily, she flailed her arms to regain the balance before she was able to do said action in an EPIC FAIL. Situating herself (and congratulating herself at an excellent maneuver), she looked down and raised an eyebrow at the little baby playing with her shoelaces. He was wearing a green shirt with a dinosaur on it (she couldn't remember the name), jeans, and a pair of black crocs. He also had a head of black, unruly hair with slightly tanned skin and green eyes. Very familiar_. Green. Eyes._

_Holy crap, it's him! _She mentally yelled, her hoodie shading her eyes and her mouth wide open in shock. The babe, bless its soul, just stared at her with a toothless grin and began to play with her shoelaces.

Shaking off the surprise, she stood up and picked the baby boy up. "Hey there baby~" she crooned, her voice already in her usual 'baby voice', "Where did you come from~?"

Of course, the little boy did not respond. He did-however-smile widely at her and tried to grab her black bangs, babbling in his baby language. She couldn't help but chuckle at the babe's antics. "You're so _cute~_!"

"Percy! There you are!"

She blinked and turned her body toward the voice of a worried mother, unintentionally ignoring the baby-now named Percy-grabbing her necklace and fiddling with it. She waited for the mother to get closer before she met her halfway. "Is this your baby, ma'am?"

"Oh yes!" She exclaimed, taking Percy and holding him protectively in her arms, as she looked at the teen with a grateful yet guarded look. "Thank you so much…"

"Beryl," she replied, flipping her hoodie back to reveal her turquoise hair being a beautiful onyx color. "And it was no problem at all. It seemed he took a fancy to my shoelaces," she smiled, watching as Percy started to nod off. "So his name is Percy?"

"Yes," the mother replied, situating her son in her arms before holding out a hand to the teen. "I'm Sally Jackson, and this is my son, Perseus Jackson."

The teen smiles as she shook hands with Sally. "Beryl. Beryl Zabat."

Sally raised an eyebrow. "Greek?"

"Yep!" the teen replied. "My ... parents had a fun time discovering the perfect name for me, especially since 'Zabat' is our family name, so..." she waved her hand in a gesture.

Sally giggled. "Well, I can't deny that. Before Percy was born, I racked my brain for any good names to give him, especially since..." she trailed off.

Beryl raised a brow. "Since what?"

Sally pursued her lips in thought before smiling brightly. "Oh, it's nothing! Just an old woman lost in her thoughts."

_I think I know what she's thinking._ Beryl hums in response. _Guess it's time to get the ball rolling_.

"Oh Sally, you're not old!" She waves with a laugh.

Sally smiles with a light blush. "Oh Beryl, you're too kind-"

"If you wanna talk about old people, you should mention the Fates!" She finishes off with a smile, ignoring Sally's pale face. "They're shriveled up like a grape that laid out in the sun for years, _and_ have a habit of knitting socks that giants can wear. Moreover, they're not even stylish for crying out loud!"

By now, Sally's face was as white as a ghost, and looked like she wanted to bolt but didn't know if it would help. "A-ah..."

Beryl replaces her cheerful grin with a serene smile, letting a bit of her aura come out and soothe the worried mother before speaking. "Peace Sally Jackson, I am no threat." She then moves her arm between them, her palm faced up. A symbol appears above her palm: a green, hologram light with a spinning and gleaming pitchfork. Her eyes glittered in the color of her namesake.

"I am here... with Poseidon's consent."

* * *

**I couldn't resist making another fanfic.**

**And this will crossover with two or three other fanfics I'm trying to plan out, so... it will be **_**EPIC!**_

**I WILL try to work on my other fanfics, but it will take time; I'm graduating on May 13****th****, and will start college on the last week of August. I'm also doing play practice on Mondays and will have to practice for ACT that's scheduled in April. Trying to get at least a 28 composite. XD**

**Wish me luck!**


	2. My Babysitter Breaks My Math Teacher

**Thank you Jake Wolf for being my first reviewer. **

**Thank you Daughter of the Hunt and Death, Jake Wolf, and colanitre for following this story.**

**Thank you Daughter of the Hunt and Death, Jake Wolf, and rider-84 for favoriting this story.**

**And finally, thank you 63 viewers that had clicked on this story.**

**Enjoy~!**

**BTW: This story will have two main point-of-views; Percy's, and Beryl's. Percy's chapters will be on the odds and Beryl's will be on the evens. There might be some places where the change in point-of-view is necessary.**

**Disclaimer: If i owned the PJO series, there would be a LOT MORE HALF-BLOODS, including me. (Ou^) b**

* * *

Beryl once told me that Destiny had plans in store for us, but we have the ability to change it to what we want, even if it's impossible. Looking back, I wonder if she knew that I would one day learn about my heritage and go on adventures no human or half-blood could ever accomplish. Or do things I would never think I could nor had the chance to do.

At that time, just two years ago, I only looked at her in confusion. She just laughed, ruffling my hair before handing me a blue ice-cream bar. But I still thought over those words as we enjoyed our cold treats and watched the sunset.

Funny how I recalled that statement years later at a coincidental timing.

* * *

Let's start with some introductions.

Hey there, my name is Percy Jackson, twelve years old, and a student at Yancy Academy, a boarding school where rich people place their troubled kids when they couldn't handle them themselves.

Am I troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that.

There are many moments that I can explain to you about it, but it might be best to explain it later.

But the highlight of my life was my class trip to the Metropolitan Museum, riding a bus filled with twenty-eight mental-case kids, two teachers, and a volunteer chaperone, to go look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

I know—it sounds like torture. Most Yancy field trips were.

But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading the trip, and the chaperone, Beryl, was here, so I had hopes.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.

I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble.

Boy, was I wrong.

See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course I got expelled anyway. And before that, at my fourth=grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that… Well, you get the idea.

This trip, I was determined to be good.

But Nancy Bobofit-a freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl that Beryl lovingly nicknamed Boba Fett-kept pelting my best friend Grover with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich, and I tried hard to put up with her.

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Anyway, Nancy Boba Fett was throwing wads of sandwich that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation.

Luckily, I didn't have to do anything at all.

"Nancy, are you throwing food back there?" Beryl Zabat, our volunteer chaperone of our field trip, called back.

Nancy looked up and flinched while I smirked. _Busted_.

"No ma'am. I wasn't doing anything," she replied in a sweet voice.

Beryl wasn't buying it, if the pursued lips and narrowed brows told me anything.

See, Beryl might be a volunteer chaperone that need the hours for a scholarship, but she's actually more than that. She's my sitter of ten years.

Now I know what you're thinking. How could it be nice to have a sitter that's almost ten years older than you? Well, here's the thing: apparently, when I was two years old, I wandered off from my mom and Beryl just so happened to have found me. Grateful for her, my mom offered her a job of watching over me whenever she had to work late, which was most of the time. Since then, Beryl had done various things to make our time together awesome, such as hanging out at the arcade and playing ski ball or watch her dominate the Dance Dance Revolution and see her competitors pwned. Or sometimes, when she saved up enough money, all three of us would go to the beach and spend the whole day in the water.

With her choice of clothing being a jean jacket with a graphic T-shirt of her favorite anime and frayed jeans with holes and a pair of well-worn combat boots, she totally took the award for the Greatest Babysitter of the Year. If there was actually an award for that.

Moving on.

When Nancy Boba Fett sat back in her chair, Beryl looked back at me and winked before sitting back in her seat.

If only she hadn't interrupted and let me deck Boba Fett. Then I might not be in this mess.

Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.

He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blew my mind that this stuff survived for two thousand, three thousand years.

He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a _stele_, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperon, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mea enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year, when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Boba Fett and figured I was devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.

One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."

Beryl thought so too, especially since I wrote her letters about my time at Yancy since the term started. And once she volunteered and met Mrs. Dodds personally, she gave her the look that said _She needs to die_.

Yeah, Beryl can get vicious if the time calls for it.

Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art.

Finally, Nancy Boba Fett snickered something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turned around and said, "Will you _shut up_?"

It came out louder than I meant it to.

The whole group laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story.

"Mr. Jackson," he said, "did you have a comment?"

My face was totally red. I said, "No, sir."

Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represent?"

I looked at the carving, and felt a flush of relief, because I actually recognized it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Brunner said, obviously not satisfied. "and he did this because . . ."

"Well . . ." I racked my brain to remember, and stumbled on the letter Beryl sent me just last week. "Kronos was the king god-no, Titan-and . . . he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife, Rhea, hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters-"

"Eeew!" said one of the girls behind me.

"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continued, "and the gods won."

Some snickers from the group.

Behind me Nancy Boba Fett mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover muttered.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair.

I thought about his question, and Beryl's letter popped up again. "Because it's good to expect the unexpected. And that it's best to know random things since life is unpredictable."

"I see," Mr. Brunner looked proud while Beryl smiled brightly. "Well, full credit Mr. Jackson! Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Miss Zabat, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other and acting like doofuses.

Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."

I didn't expect that.

I told Grover to keep going. Then I turned toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?"

Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go—intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything.

"That was quite the answer," Mr. Brunner told me.

"Really? Thank you-"

"Which you will need to apply to real life, and your studies."

"Oh."

"What you learn from me, as well as from your sitter," his eyes twinkled for a moment, "it vitally important. We expect you to treat is as such. I and Miss Zabat accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

I wanted to get angry, this guy pushed me so hard. And Beryl . . . I was shocked.

I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!" and challenged us, sword-point against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C- in my life. No—he didn't expect me to be _as good_; he expected me to be _better_. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.

And Beryl . . . All of those stories she told me and the pictures she showed me were just meant to be things that would lull me to sleep at night as a kid. The days we would spend lying on my bed, tracing the cracks on the ceiling as Beryl pointed out constellations and their stories from the messed-up roof. And even that time when I was five and came home from school to see Beryl taking out cookies shaped like the Greek gods' symbols, later quizzing me on them and giving me the cookies for the right answers.

Was that just to make me learn about the Greek myths; not supposed to be something every great sitter is supposed to do?

I mumbled something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner took one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.

He told me to go outside and eat my lunch.

The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where new could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lighting strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.

Nobody else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Boba Fett was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a thing.

When Beryl saw me, she declared that I needed a treat and headed back into the museum. Grover and I sat on the edge of the fountain, away from the others as we waited for her. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from _that_ school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," I said. "Not from Mr. Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a genius."

Grover didn't say anything for a while. Then, when I thought he was going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he said, "Can I have you apple?"

I didn't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.

I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and thought about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sat. I hadn't seen her since Christmas. I wanted so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. She'd hug me and be glad to see me, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized café table.

I was about to unwrap my sandwich Beryl gave me earlier when Nancy Boba Fett appeared in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from tourists—and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos. I tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I as so mad my mind went blank. A wave roared in my ears.

I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"

"—the water—"

"—like it grabbed her—"

I didn't know what they were talking about. All I knew was that I was in trouble again.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—"

"I know," I grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks."

That wasn't the right thing to say.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said.

"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. _I_ pushed her."

I stared at him, stunned. I couldn't believe he was trying to cover for me. Mrs. Dodds scared Grove to death.

She glared at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said.

"But—"

"You—_will_—stay—here."

Grover looked at me desperately.

"It's okay, man," I told him. "Thanks for trying."

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barked at me. "_Now_."

Nancy Boba Fett smirked. I gave her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. Then I turned to face Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come in.

How'd she get there so fast?

I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.

I wasn't so sure.

I went after Mrs. Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what as going on , but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel.

I looked back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

Okay, I thought. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop.

But apparently that wasn't the plan.

I followed her deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery was empty.

Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making this noise in her throat, like growling.

Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze, as if she wanted to pulverize it . . .

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she said.

I did the safe thing. I said, "Yes, ma'am."

She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"

The look in her eyes was beyond ma. It was evil.

She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me.

I said, "I'll—I'll try harder, ma'am."

Thunder shook the building.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

I didn't know what she was talking about.

All I could think of was that the teacher's must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on _Tom Sawyer _from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take a way my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, I don't . . ."

"Your time is up," she hissed.

Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouted, and tossed the pen through the air.

Mrs. Dodds lunged at me.

When a yelp, I dodged and felt talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatched the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a sword—Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always used on tournament day.

Mrs. Dodds spun toward me with a murderous look in her eyes.

My knees were jelly. My hands we shaking so bad I almost dropped the sword.

She snarled, "Die, honey!"

And she flew straight at me.

Absolute terror ran through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swung my sword.

Which I almost cleaved Beryl with when she pushed me on the ground, ducking as Mrs. Dodds passed over us. The impact caused my head to spin a little, and by the time the room stopped moving and I sat up, I watched as Beryl rode on Mrs. Dodds like she was trying to break a horse.

My teacher snarled and screeched, trying to claw Beryl off her. "Get off of me, wench!"

Beryl, however, looking pleased. "No way, bird-brained!"

Then she grabbed Mrs. Dodds wings', pulled them, and made her steer towards one of the friezes. My teacher didn't have a chance to stop her before she slammed into it, while Beryl did a fancy maneuver of back-flipping off her before the impact.

She landed. Right in front of me.

She turned toward me, her eyes glittering. "What are you waiting for, Percy?!"

That was all she could say before Mrs. Dodds shook off the pain, turned towards us, and lunged. Straight towards Beryl.

I didn't think.

I sprinted, pushed Beryl out of the way, and, with my knees still shaking and my insides flipping like a Mexican jumping bean, I swung the sowrd.

The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body as if she were made of water. _Hiss!_

Mrs. Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me.

I was alone.

There was a ballpoint pen I my hand.

Mr. Brunner wasn't there. Beryl wasn't there. Nobody was there but me.

My hands were still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.

Had I imagined the whole thing

I went back outside.

It had started to rain.

Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Boba Fett was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she was me, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

I said, "Who?"

"Our _teacher_. Duh!"

I blinked. We had no teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I asked Nancy what she was talking about.

She just rolled her eyes and turned away.

I asked Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

He said, "Who?"

But je paused first, and he wouldn't look at me. So I thought he was messing with me.

"Not funny, man," I told him. "This is serious."

Thunder boomed overhear.

I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book, as if he'd never moved.

I went over to him.

He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

I handed Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.

"Sir," I said, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stared at me blankly. "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know. There has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

* * *

When we got on the bus to return to the academy, I didn't see Beryl anywhere. When I asked Grover, he paused and looked away.

"Percy, are you messing with me for not getting you out of trouble? Because Beryl never came to the trip at all."

* * *

**DONE! *flops on top of desk, a cloud of exhaustion on top of head***

**Beryl: Well, at least you're done with it. *begins to rub back* Especially since all week you were busy will Physics and Calculus.**

***slowly sits up, glasses drooping* Thank the Gods for that.**

**Beryl: And now you can work on the next chapter during Mardi Gras break, which is starting tomorrow!**

***looks at OC* But I need to look for some shoes for my prom dress on tomorrow, and me and my mom will be gone ALL DAY. *flops back on desk***

**Beryl: Well what about tonight?**

…

**Beryl: …**

**Beryl: …**

… ***shrugs* Maybe, if I'm not too lazy.**

**Beryl :*rolls eyes* Whatever. But you weren't lazy enough to no stop watching pschedelicsnake's walkthrough of Bayonetta.**

***bolts up, hands in the air* SNAKE IS AWESOME~! AND SO IS BAYONETTA! SHE'S SO F***ING AWESOME! *starts humming 'Fly Me to the Moon (Climax)'***

**Beryl: *sweatdrops* You really liked it?**

**OF COURSE! *quickly turns toward OC* AND YOU'LL WATCH IT WITH ME! ****AGAIN!**

**Beryl: o_o! Oh-uh-um-**

**THE "OH"S ALWAS HAVE IT! LETS GO~!**

***Picks up OC fireman style and rushed out of door, ignoring OC's screams of protest***


End file.
